


The One I Fully Trusted, Who Fully Trusted Me

by RedAnthem



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Childhood, Five and Vanya go on a mission of their own, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Vanya is Five's favorite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27872778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedAnthem/pseuds/RedAnthem
Summary: After getting on his siblings' bad side during a training session, a thirteen year old Five and Vanya go on a secret mission of their own to steal a book from dad's private library.
Relationships: Dolores/Number Five | The Boy (Umbrella Academy), Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37





	The One I Fully Trusted, Who Fully Trusted Me

New York City in March is chilly and drizzly, today being no exception. Bundled in a cheap rainproof coat, Vanya found herself drawn to a small bookstore and café that morning. She was thinking that perhaps she could continue to work on more job applications as she waited for the light rain to pass. The afternoon would bring warmer sunshine and dryer weather. Usually, she wouldn’t want to be outside at all in the spring. Spring weather brought pollen, and pollen brought allergies. But she was tired of being holed up in her small apartment with shitty heat and AC. 

It’s been a few months since she left her father’s house. Things have been going surprisingly well for her, considering she was freshly eighteen with no clue of what she was supposed to be doing to survive. Luckily, her hobby (and primary coping mechanism, speaking honestly) of playing the violin was paying off. Currently, her bills and expenses are being paid through tutoring young children. It was decent work, though it didn’t pay much. And dealing with children and parents is always anxiety-inducing.

Anything was better than staying at her father’s place, honestly.

The bookstore smelled like coffee, and it was the rush hour, making it hard to focus. Sitting in one of the booths, Vanya found herself drifting off to stare at the crowded shelves to her left. Few people were browsing books there. Packing up her small bag of things, she walked over to look around at the collection.

Ben had always liked reading, when he was alive. Probably because it let him avoid talking to everyone. She always thought she had a lot in common with her quiet brother, who always had his nose in a book—she was the same with her instrument, the only difference being what they had in their hands. They never spoke much, especially once they grew older, though she knew he still hung around Klaus before he died.

She wished she spoke more to him, before everything happened. If he were there, maybe they’d all still be together, as a family.

Though she’d never had any knack for the hard sciences, the music theory books seemed to be grouped next to that section, so she found herself moving toward it. In the corner of her eye she spotted it: _The Nature of Space and Time,_ by Stephen Hawking and Roger Penrose. Another brother’s face arose in her mind, who left her years ago. It’s been so long. She thought of peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches. She had stopped making them around when she tried "running away" for that first time. She still felt guilty about it—no longer making the sandwiches and leaving the lights on—but she figured, she hoped, perhaps it was better if he didn’t come back home then. It was hardly a home anymore. 

It was futile to think after all of these years he’d still come back, though.

She looked outside the storefront window. The drizzling had stopped, which was her cue to leave. 

* * *

March early afternoons were scheduled superhero training times in the Hargreeves house. Six cold children stood in a neat row, with one off to the side, all awaiting orders.

“Today’s training is capture the flag. Pogo has already kindly set up the courtyard here for you. Team one will be Number One, Two and Three; and team two will be Number Four, Five and Six. Number Seven, you will keep track of the score. Whoever has the most wins when I call time will have an extra 15 minutes of free time when it's next scheduled. On your mark, get set, ready-”

Suddenly one of the children, Number Five, tore from the ranks, a confident grin plastered onto his face. “Father, if I might make a suggestion?”

“What comment is so important that it excuses interrupting me? Speak up.”

The grin on his face wavered. Speaking to dad this way always had its risks, though Five was good at calculation. Swallowing his nervousness, he replied. “Considering the fact that I can make spatial jumps, which gives me a _clear_ advantage over the others,” Five said, “shouldn’t I be on my own solo team, to make things fair for the rest? Though I doubt it would help _them_ much anyway.” 

His words clattered through the chilly air sharply like dice rolling across a wooden table. 

“Absolutely not, Number Five, and I’m incredibly disappointed you would even suggest such a thing. The objective of this training is to practice _teamwork,_ not your spatial jumps.” 

Five’s face dropped and he took a step back into place. His siblings chuckled and chuffed in response, vindicated. He heard Diego speak under his breath to Four. _“Serves him right,”_ he said. The air felt colder on his heated face.

The countdown continued and the whistle blew jarringly into the air. Brothers and sister alike were tackled, jostled, and pushed. His siblings grunted, shouted, and screamed, echoing off the four walls surrounding the courtyard. 

Usually, father would put Diego and Luther on opposite teams to make things feel more fair—Diego always became more competitive when against Luther, and he’d usually push his less motivated teammates to help him out. But this time they were placed into teams based on numerical order, which meant a very half-hearted performance from Ben and Klaus, who were currently getting plowed into the damp ground by Diego as Allison went to retrieve their team’s flag on the opposite side of the courtyard.

“I heard a rumor you stayed still!”

Five growled to himself as he felt his feet lock up and saw Allison run back with _their_ flag. He could see Diego’s smug face across the field as Luther and Allison cheered together over their first win. He looked over at Vanya, who was shifting on her feet with her clipboard in hand. She looked worriedly back at him.

No spatial jumps, huh. He’d show them. He had more tricks up his sleeve.

This time Diego made the dash toward the flag and Allison and Luther played defense. They could more than handle it; Ben and Klaus were hardly a match for _Allison,_ let alone Luther. He saw them throw themselves against the other team’s defensive line, trying and failing to dodge the pair, getting no closer to the flag.

Diego had a wicked look in his eye, barreling toward Five, who was standing on the mound with his team’s flag. His eyes weren’t on Diego though. He concentrated on the other side of the courtyard, feeling the pull of energy in his fingers, then, sensing it elsewhere, he _yanked._

Euphoria rose in his chest as Diego stopped and stood before him uncomprehendingly. He felt the cold fabric of the flag in his hand, no longer sitting on the opposite side of the field. Diego stared at his captured flag in shock, then at the mound, and then at father. The rest of his siblings stood still, eyes glued on the two of them.

_“Five’s cheating!”_

“That’s a new distance record for teleporting extraneous objects. Good work, Five.” 

Diego returned his gaze to Five again, his dark brown eyes fuming, chest heaving. 

Five’s team won easily after that. 

* * *

Vanya stared at her clipboard: a score of 58-1. After training was over, everyone (except for herself) was supposed to shower before meeting back for dinner. Five and the rest of her siblings stepped inside after her and dad, Diego deliberately shoving Five into the doorframe. Klaus and Ben’s clothes were disheveled. They looked at Diego and Five with concern, then looked at each other, and looked away. Despite getting shoved, Five still had a smirk on his face.

After another quiet dinner, Vanya headed back into her room next to Klaus’s to practice her violin. She was on Bach, her favorite composer, trying out his Brandenburg Concerto No. 5. She’d been on the piece for several weeks, now. She closed her door behind her and set up her stand and the sheet music. Taking her violin and bow out, she set the instrument under her chin, got into position, and began to play. 

She was totally focused on her music and the notes in front of her, blind to the sounds of the rest of the world. This was her favorite feeling; the complete safety in being surrounded by the sound of her own making. Nothing else mattered. Not the heavy footsteps of her siblings outside her door in the hallway, not the shouts and the doors slamming, not the-

In one moment, a hand covered her mouth. Nearly dropping her instrument in shock with a small smothered yelp, she whipped around and saw part of a face behind her.

“It’s just me.” Five.

“You scared me,” she breathed. “What are you doing here?”

Five took a large step over to her bed and flopped down, the coils and joints of her bed frame creaking, his gangly 13-year old limbs sent flying. “Avoiding Diego. He’s angry with me, for some reason,” he answered coyly. As he spoke, she heard the other boy’s heavy footsteps marching up and down the hallway, having angry conversations with their siblings.

“But… why are you here?”

“Because this is the last place he’d want to look.” He flipped himself over and began tracing the patterns on her duvet. The heavy footsteps came closer, stopping, and she felt herself tense up in apprehension. The voices of her siblings outside came through into her bedroom.

“Are you sure you haven’t seen Five?” Diego growled. 

“You’re going to bother dad with your stomping around Diego, just give it up.” That was Luther. “Why are you so mad, anyway? You already know what he’s like.”

“So? He still deserves to be taught a lesson for being such an arrogant _little shit_ _.”_

“I agree,” said Allison’s voice, “but just give it up. He’s just a jerk.” She sighed exasperatedly. “And dad is too, anyway—no, Luther, he _is_ —for having him train with us and use his power to win. It’s so unfair. Why the hell did he let him play, saying he needed to learn _teamwork,_ but as soon as he pulled that move with the flag it’s okay for him to do all the work and let Klaus and Ben just stand there doing nothing? Dad doesn’t make any sense.”

A pause. “...Why don’t we just go hang out in the kitchen and forget about all this?” 

“Fine,” Diego gritted out, “let’s go.”

Their footsteps padded away, but Vanya’s eyes were still stuck to her door. A moment of silence passed and she heard Five kick his feet around, making noise, making her antsy. 

“Five…”

She turned around, and he had moved to her chair, straddling it backwards, facing her. “Does… does it ever hurt your feelings, when they talk like that?”

He had a neutral, disinterested expression on his face. “No. Obviously they’re just jealous of me because even though _they’re_ supposed to be at the top, I’m _way_ more powerful than them. Obviously.”

“Oh… okay.” She swallowed. The bow and the violin in her hand felt heavy, and she stared at the floor at Five’s shoes, which were shaking as he bounced his heels. 

“Hey Vanya.” His voice was light and carefree. “What was that violin piece you were working on, again?”

“...Brandenburg Concerto, No. 5.”

“How come you haven’t played it for me yet? You’ve been practicing it for a while now, haven’t you?”

Her hands squeezed around her instrument involuntarily and she gulped, unable to meet his eyes. Her shoulders tensed and she shifted her feet nervously. “I… I’m still not that great at it, you wouldn’t want to hear it.”

He leaned back and quirked an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” 

“...”

“...Well, okay then. Anyway, since you’re not going to play it for me, I guess you have time to help me out with a small favor." He leaned in, and whispered loudly. "A _mission.”_

Her heart skipped, breath shaky. “A mission?”

“Yeah, a secret mission, and it stays between you and me. What do you say?”

“Um, yeah. Sure.”

“Great. Here’s the deal: I need a book, but it’s in dad’s private library. I can get in and out just fine, _but_ I’m going to need a lookout, just in case. All you’d need to do is stand outside and make sure nobody goes in while I’m searching, and make excuses if anyone asks for me. That sound okay?”

“Yeah, sounds easy enough.”

He got up from the chair, and she dropped her instrument on the bed. 

“Then let’s go.”

* * *

Treading lightly, the pair made their way to their father’s compartments. That morning he’d announced that he had an arrangement that evening after dinner, making this time as good as any for sneaking around. Mom and Pogo were never strict about the schedule anyway when father was out.

Five left Vanya to stand guard outside the door. Though she looked a bit suspicious standing in the middle of the hallway like that, the others typically wouldn’t bother questioning her about where she was, so there was nothing to worry about. He quickly checked for Pogo or Mom through a small crack between the heavy wooden doors, and seeing nobody, slipped in.

Though most books were not off-limits to the Hargreeves children, as Reginald preferred them to be avid readers as opposed to not, the subjects they read about were obviously limited to whatever the man deemed relevant and beneficial to their education, excluding anything frivolous or wasteful or, the category which drew most interest to Five, dangerous. This off-limits category included, in Five’s case, information on how to take his power to the next level.

Dad never made it easy. Sometimes Five thought that it would be easier to please dad if he was just direct with him with exactly what he wanted, but he chose to make everything a challenge instead. He couldn’t just do what he expected—he had to _impress_ him. Though he supposed that in some ways he had it easier than the others. He knew Klaus spent much of the week locked up in a mausoleum somewhere so he could talk to ghosts. And Ben always spent his time after one-on-one training throwing his guts up and not wanting to speak to anyone. It was okay for Five, though. He’d learned long ago that it didn’t bring him any personal satisfaction anyway to see dad happy. No, what made him satisfied was becoming so good at mastering his powers that even dad doesn’t know what to do with him. It wasn’t enough to be like Luther or even Allison and just please him with a job well done—he wanted to be _better._

Dad’s library was fairly unorganized, perhaps characteristic of your average eccentric billionaire. It would take some time sifting through the titles to find what he needed. He was about midway done searching when he heard Pogo and Vanya’s voices.

Vanya was standing outside, trying to look inconspicuous, and mostly succeeding until she spotted Pogo with a duster, a towel, and a bottle of lemon oil in his hands, his eyes resting on the very door she needed him to ignore. The butler nodded kindly to her and reached for the handle when Vanya found her courage and choked out, “wait!”

He stopped. “What is it Miss Vanya? Do you need anything? It’s bedtime.”

Her throat felt completely shut but she squeaked out an answer anyway. “Um, yes. Actually, I don’t need you, but someone else does, and it’s pretty urgent.”

“Oh? What is it then?”

“Uh… it’s Diego actually. And Allison and Luther. They were in the kitchen just a minute ago, and… they broke some things. I saw it. Could you clean it up?”

“Oh, of course Miss Vanya. It was an accident on their part, I hope. We wouldn’t want to upset the master,” he smiled warmly. “I’ll head over there before anyone gets injured.”

Vanya let the breath she was holding out as she saw Pogo’s small back recede down the hallway. It would be almost 5 minutes before he reached the kitchen. She didn’t know if the three of them were still there or not. If Pogo caught her in the lie it would make him suspicious and he’d tell dad, which would get Five in trouble. And if the other three found out she was making lies about them they’d be mad at her too. 

As her mind spun around fretfully with all the horrible possibilities, the door behind her yanked open, and a harried Five with a book in hand appeared in front of her. 

“Wait for me in your room,” he whispered urgently, “and take this.” He handed her the book— _The Nature of Space and Time—_ and disappeared in front of her before she could even nod. She shoved the book under her coat and ran to her room.

Meanwhile, Five reappeared in the kitchen. It was empty, luckily for him—their siblings must have cleared out already. Reaching for the cupboards he grabbed and smashed a few cups and plates onto the floor, hoping Pogo wasn’t near enough to hear it, and slipped back out of sight. 

* * *

Her heart beating out of her chest, eyes wide open, Vanya sat on her bed, the smuggled forbidden book hiding underneath her pillow. When Five reappeared before her, she didn’t know whether to let out a sigh of relief or a yelp of fear.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone caught me, and Pogo should be busy sweeping glass now. Where’s the book?”

“Here,” she said, and handed it over as Five moved to sit next to her. His eyes were wicked and gleeful as he gripped the book. Flipping it over, he began greedily scanning the back.

“What do you need with that book, anyway?”

Five spoke without taking his eyes off the thing. “During our personal training, dad and I talked about the theoretical uses of my power. You know how I can manipulate myself and other objects in space? Well,” he flipped the book over and tapped the words in the title, “space and time are related. In fact, they’re fundamentally the same thing.” His excited words began to glaze over her ears. “I can already do spatial jumps and manipulate how people experience time to a very small extent because of that, but if I can get more information about how it works, I might be able to do something _even better.”_

“Like what?”

“Like time travel.” Five’s voice went giddy, his eyes lit like spotlights. “Think about how cool _that_ would be, Vanya.”

“I don’t understand it.”

“Don’t worry about that. Just imagine: next time we’re on a mission and someone gets shot, I can just, turn back time before they get hit and push them out of the way. I could turn back time before the bad guy even pulls his gun out. Or, I could go back to before they even decided to commit the crime and make sure they don’t end up doing anything at all, so we don’t even have to fight them. Wouldn’t that just be awesome?”

“Yeah, that would be really useful.” Vanya smiled, thinking about how that would mean none of her siblings would even be needed for missions anymore. Maybe they’d have more free time. Maybe, because they wouldn’t be busy, they could just stay at home, and would finally hang out with her.

“When we talked about this dad said I wouldn’t be ready for it. But if I can understand all there is to know about space-time, I’m one step closer to learning how to time travel.”

“Why did dad say you wouldn’t be ready?”

“Some nonsense about the negative side effects that have nothing to do with how space-time works. Anyway, he’s just trying to stop me because I’m getting so powerful already, and he doesn’t want to make it too easy for everyone else.”

His voice was hushed and bright. She didn't really know how to react to his sudden spurts of arrogance, though she knew it always happened before he went to do something really stupid or dangerous. “Five… what if he’s right?”

“So what? I’ll figure that out too. He’ll be okay with it after I actually time travel.”

Vanya wrung her hands together. "Okay... just, don’t push him too much, okay? It won’t end well.”

“I guess...” Five sighed and sprung up from his seat, eyes glued to the book in his hand, and touched the doorknob. His voice was hushed and low. “Goodnight, Vanya."

“Goodnight, Five.”

* * *

“Are you here for the violin audition, third chair?”

“Yes, sir,” Vanya replied quietly.

“Go ahead,” the man said, gesturing his clipboard to the steps to the side of the stage. Instrument and case in hand, Vanya made her way up. It was another cool spring morning, but the weather had been clear and sunny for the past few days. She hoped it was a good omen. She swallowed. Her mouth was dry. In her rush to leave her apartment, she forgot to take her meds; her hands felt cold and shaky. There were only a few people in the audience, presumably section leaders and the concertmaster. 

“My name is Vanya Hargreeves… and I’m playing Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No. 5, in D Major.”

The man with the clipboard nodded and gave his signal. She began to play. The music flowed from her bow and the strings, steadying her heart and hands. She hadn’t really planned on going with this piece. The violin solos from the Phantom of the Opera were more her preference. But after that morning at the bookstore, she couldn’t get the piece out of her head. 

She never did play it for him, did she? She couldn’t fathom why. Why was she so scared? His face floated in her mind’s eye, his eyes like the spotlights shining on her. She wished she had more time, back then. Or more confidence. Maybe if she had just played the piece right then and there for him, he wouldn’t have brought up going into dad’s library. He wouldn’t have gotten his hands on the book, and then maybe, he wouldn’t have disappeared. 

Could he have saved Ben? Would their family still be together now? 

The last notes resonated from her violin. She took a deep breath, and bowed. 

“Your application said you had no formal musical training, correct? And you’ve only been playing for five years?”

Vanya’s heart fluttered. “Well… yes.”

The man's eyebrows lifted, and he nodded to her. “You play pretty decently for someone who’s only got five years of amateur playing under their belt. Good job.”

Her eyes lifted in surprise at the praise, the spotlights flooding her vision, throwing her off guard.

“Expect a call back around the end of the week.”

* * *

For his 18th birthday, Five decided to treat himself to a day at the bookstore with Dolores. 

The library that they found shelter in had a pretty wide collection of materials which kept him entertained for the past five years or so, though unfortunately, much of it was ashes or shreds of paper, and he also read them all over and over a couple of times. So he needed a change.

The bookstore wasn’t very big, but the materials were somewhat more intact. The buildings on this block appeared fairly stable for post-apocalyptic conditions. The glass windows and the door were already shattered, though the inside provided a little shade, even with half of it collapsed in on itself. Lifting Dolores out of the wagon, they entered the wreckage.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to live somewhere like this?”

“How so? At least at the library I don’t have to worry about the roof caving in during my sleep.”

“Better than the sun and grime battering you all day and night. I think the top of my head is bleaching. Five, can you check? Tell me my head’s not bleaching.”

Five set his mouth in a straight line and peered at her head. “No bleaching. I swear.” He was lying of course, but Dolores wouldn’t know that. It wasn’t that bad, anyway. Dolores tended to complain too much.

He couldn’t remember when he first heard the mannequin speak to him. Year two? Two and a half? Three? He’d like to imagine he held onto his sanity for a longer period of time but, alas, here he was. Whatever. If the mannequin could talk, she could talk. She wasn’t horrible company, and she was helpful sometimes, looking out for him. She had a nice smile too.

He was gazing around, taking the place in, when a handful of familiar words caught his eye. “Hold on, Dolores. I think I spotted something interesting.”

“Do tell.”

Traipsing through rubble and fallen bookcases, he set her down next to his quarry, which he carefully freed from the gravel and dusted off the cover. Yes, this is it; he knew it looked familiar. _“The Nature of Space and Time,_ by Stephen Hawking and Roger Penrose. What do you think of that, Dolores?”

“I thought you had enough of space-time,” her voice dark and humorous. 

“Well. Yeah. But this is a bit… sentimental, I suppose.” Even the cover looked the same as the one in his father’s library. 

It was admittedly painful, thinking of his family for more than just the burning desire to find his way back to them. He never knew he could feel longing so intensely, or regret. He took them all for granted: Luther, Allison, even his idiotic and hotheaded brother Diego. He missed Klaus too, even for all his annoying clinginess and ramblings, and kind and quiet Ben, who was probably the one who got on his nerves the least out of his brothers. Pogo and Mom, too. Even dad he missed. 

And timid little Vanya. 

Clutching the book, he thought of his sister. In his jacket was a large inner pocket where her memoir sat. He was shocked when he saw her face peering at him through the rubble, the same face he ran away from years ago at the dinner table, her expression guarded as it ever was. More shocked was he to see the back photo where she was a decade older and completely without her signature face-shielding bangs. Even more shocked, and impressed even, that she’d had enough pent-up frustration about their family and the balls to actually put to paper all of their dark secrets for the world to see. Not so timid anymore, he supposed. He was proud of her, and glad for the knowledge about what happened after he’d left, though it was a special kind of pain to learn that after his sudden disappearance—and Ben’s horrible premature death—poor Vanya was made finally, and truly alone. 

_My sole confidant—_

_...Seemed fitting that of the siblings to leave us, it would be the one I fully trusted, who fully trusted me._

Dolores’s voice pierced through his reverie. “Hey, Five.”

“Yeah, Dolores?”

“Let’s go back and have some of that wine we found. The blackberry one?”

“Sure,” he said, picking her up lightly and trudging back through the rubble into the sunlight and grimy air. 

**Author's Note:**

> The Big Question: how on Earth were these two kids close enough in childhood that Vanya would call him her "sole confidant" in her autobiography when Five is the most arrogant about his powers, and Vanya is the most insecure over her lack thereof? Personally, I don't think it was because Five was especially sensitive to her feelings or anything, at least not in a way that would be obvious. I think it's because they were both ostracized by their siblings, though for different reasons. Vanya was because she of being "ordinary," and Five because he's Five. He doesn't jive well with people. He has the personality of an arrogant kid who spends too much time playing competitive FPS games, talking shit to everyone even slightly below his level. And I absolutely love him for it.
> 
> I wish we could've seen more of Five and Vanya's relationship, though she's changed so much from the timid, "ordinary" girl he knew in childhood that their dynamic is so different now from what it (presumably) was in childhood. Like, he still loves her, she's still his "younger" sister, but now she's got other things to deal with and so does he.   
> I also want to make it clear that I love Diego, I think he's cool, though I think it's canon that of all the siblings, Diego was the one most blatantly mean to Vanya when they were growing up, just because he's got an abrasive nature. Also, I don't know pretty much anything about the violin, how orchestras work, or how space-time works, so forgive me.


End file.
